


Daily Routines

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: Kisses Bingo [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Affection, Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Game Shows, M/M, Television Watching, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: “How is it,” Steve said suddenly with a heavy hint of frustrated disbelief in his tone. “that I missed nearly seventy years and I still know more of these answers than the actual contestants do?”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: Kisses Bingo [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885117
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36
Collections: Kisses Bingo





	Daily Routines

**Author's Note:**

> Kisses Bingo Square G1 - **palm kisses** | foot massage

There was nothing particularly special about Wednesday nights. The regular work week was in full swing. The week night routine settled fully into place. Sam had to admit that it was almost odd how quickly and seamlessly comfortable evenings like this had fallen into the regular, nightly routine. 

Steve was stretched out along the length of the couch beside him, his head resting in Sam’s lap and feet crossed at the ankles over the arm of the couch on the opposite end, hands laced together over his stomach. Comfortable in a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, same as Sam. The television was on, playing some game show rerun that Sam only paid half-hearted attention to. Though Steve’s eyes were locked firmly onto the screen, brows furrowed in some mix of concentration and frustration. 

Sam shifted just enough to stretch out his legs, careful not to dislodge Steve and propped his feet on the coffee table, relaxing deeper into the couch with a quiet sigh. Eventually, he would need to get up again. Clean up the kitchen from where he and Steve had made and eaten dinner. Load and start the dishwasher. Set the timer on the coffee pot so there’ll be coffee ready in the morning. Double check that his alarms were set, even though they always were. Set about getting ready for the second half of the week.

That was for later though. All of that could wait just a little bit longer. For now, he let his fingers comb through Steve’s hair, the strands soft and still slightly damp from his shower. Smiling fondly when Steve automatically tilted his head back into the touch like some overgrown house cat. Sam let hand keep the steady strokes while his head fell back against the couch, eyes closing lazily. He snorted softly in amusement and smirked when he heard Steve mutter the answer to whatever question had been asked on the show.

“How is it,” Steve said suddenly with a heavy hint of frustrated disbelief in his tone. “that I missed nearly seventy years and I still know more of these answers than the actual contestants do?”

Sam huffed a laugh and shrugged. “Probably because it’s fresher for you. You’re just learning it all.”

Steve scoffed and shook his head, digging just slightly into Sam’s thigh as he did, “These are _easy_ questions though.”

“Not everyone can pack away the amount of information in their heads like you can, baby,” Sam teased, opening his eyes again and looking down as he tugged gently at Steve’s hair. 

Steve shot him a smirk before turning his attention back to the television, just in time to groan loudly, rubbing his hands roughly over his face like he was just _done_ with these people. “ _Rhubarb,_ idiots, come on. Artichokes aren’t toxic. What the hell. Sam, I think I suddenly get exactly why Stark always looked so annoyed when someone talked tech-stuff to him. Holy shit.”

Sam laughed, he couldn’t help it. The audible frustration for a show that was at least a year old, if not older, was somehow just like Steve. He laughed hard enough that he had to pull his hand away from Steve’s hair to wipe at his eyes when they began to water. He dropped his hand again, shifting until it came to rest on Steve’s chest over his sternum.

When he pulled himself back together and calmed, he looked down fondly at Steve only to find him looking back, a broad grin on his face. Steve’s expression softened and he winked cheekily his own hand reaching to curl around Sam’s. He brought their hands up a few inches until he could press a lingering kiss, first to Sam’s palm and then his wrist over the pulse point before resting their hands back over his sternum. Sam wound their fingers together and Steve squeezed and then relaxed, keeping Sam’s hand pressed against his chest.

“Rebar,” Steve muttered and it took Sam a brief moment to realize that he was referring to the show once again. Sam chuckled and shook his head as Steve sagged in relief when two of the contestants answered the question correctly. “Thank god, there’s hope.”

Unfortunately for Steve, but fortunate for Sam’s entertainment, the remaining half of the episode was equally short on correct answers. The annoyed huff Steve gave as the credits rolled probably shouldn’t have been as amusing as it was.

“Maybe you should try to go on there,” Sam suggested with a laugh. “Show them all up.”

Steve hummed and shrugged, “Could be fun. Think I could win?”

Sam took a moment to picture Steve Rogers standing up on that stage huffing and scowling irritably every time someone else got the answers wrong. That annoyingly smug smirk that he got when he knew he was right about something. A warm flush of possessive affection wound through him and he squeezed Steve’s hand. “Yeah, baby, you’d kick ass. Just not literally. Hopefully.” 

Steve snorted in amusement and tipped his head back to look up at Sam with a warm smile that Sam traced with the fingertips of his free hand. Steve leaned into the touch again, pressing his cheek into Sam’s hand. Sam smiled around a yawn that stubbornly interrupted the moment.

“Tired?” Steve asked, fond and affectionate.

“Getting there,” Sam admitted. 

Steve turned his head and pressed another kiss to Sam’s hand against his face, squeezing softly at their linked hands before releasing them. Reluctantly he pushed himself to sit upright on the couch, grabbing the remote off of the table and turning the television off. 

“Come on,” he said, standing and offering Sam a hand up. Sam groaned but reached to take Steve’s hand, not releasing it again until they reached the kitchen. The clean up routine was as easy and comfortable as the rest of the night had been. Something that followed all the way through to Steve curling snugly against Sam’s back, arms coiling around his waist with a contented sigh. 


End file.
